


Toss A Binder To Your Bard

by beanaboston



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Coming Out, Geralt walks in on jask shirtless, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, How Do I Tag, Insecure Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Modern AU, Sort of forced coming out, Trans Character, Trans Jaskier | Dandelion, Trans Male Character, no beta we die like renfri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23930908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanaboston/pseuds/beanaboston
Summary: Modern AU where Geralt is still a witcher and Jaskier is a stealth trans man. Geralt slowly pieces together the strangeness of Jaskier’s behavior.--------------------"Do you think I, of all people, would judge someone for something they didn't even choose to be?" Jaskier shrugs, shame creeping into the cocktail of emotion coming off him. "Come on, let's finish our beers and go to bed."
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 10
Kudos: 228





	Toss A Binder To Your Bard

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer! All I know of the witcher is from the Netflix show and fanfiction (and a little from the wiki). In this AU witchers still have enhanced senses, strength, and can cast magic but they have a normal human lifespan. This isn’t particularly relevant to this fic, but I wanted to bring it up. (I can’t live with Jaskier dying and leaving Geralt behind.)

Geralt sighs, unlocking the front door of Jaskier and his shared house. He’d been at the store for much longer than he wanted, he had trouble finding all the ingredients he needed for his potions and the bard’s cooking. Geralt sets the food down in the kitchen and makes his way through the house. He stops abruptly. _Blood._ He jerks his head towards the scent. The bedroom. It’s faint but fresh. The witcher approaches the door, prepared to fight. He can smell the swirl of emotions coming off Jaskier. _Fear. Pain. Sadness?_ He isn’t familiar with that sadness. Its smell is unique. He opens the door, the smell of fear intensifies. Jaskier is terrified. 

“Jaskier, What happened?” Geralt speaks softly, not wanting to scare the bard even more. He only receives a groan in reply. Geralt steps closer, “Are you hurt?”

“‘M fine. Just sick.” Jaskier manages to croak out a reply.

“Hm.” Geralt decides to drop it. His bard is not injured and does not wish to discuss his pain. He leaves Jaskier in the darkness of their bedroom, gathering his potion ingredients. He makes his way to his study, pondering the bard’s behavior and smell. That sadness. He thinks he’s smelled it before on someone, but can’t remember where.

\--------------------

They are quite the unlikely pair. A silent witcher dressed in all black, and a companion chattering away dressed as if he was in the circus. Geralt needed to find some rare plants for his potions, and Jaskier had insisted on coming along. The witcher figured there was no harm, this wasn’t a hunt after all. He of course still has his sword, he never leaves the house without it. A very wise choice today. The normal swamp sounds suddenly quiet. Geralt stills, putting an arm out, blocking Jaskier behind him. The bard has long since learned to be silent when Geralt does this. Geralt mutters a quiet fuck before pulling his sword out. He pushes Jaskier behind him, hoping he doesn’t get hurt. The monster is too close for him to run. 

“What is it Geralt?” Jaskier speaks in a whisper, almost too quiet to hear himself. He knows the witcher will hear the question regardless.

“Kikimora.” This calms Jaskier’s fear slightly, kikimoras aren’t hard to fight. However, Geralt has no armor and a human to protect. The kikimora bursts from the underbrush chittering. It sets its sight on the weaker man. Geralt shoves Jaskier away, rushing forward to strike. It’s too late. The kikimora has already spat acid onto Jaskier. Geralt quickly dispatches the kikimora, before turning back to Jaskier sitting against a tree. He examines the bard quickly, before speaking.

“Strip,” he speaks harshly, leaving no room for argument. Of course, the bard ignores the harsh tone.

“Excuse me!?” his voice pitches up, fear seeping into the air.

“The acid. You’ll die if it soaks through,” Geralt tries to keep his tone softer. He doesn’t want to scare the bard, but it’s urgent. Jaskier’s fear spikes, that strange sadness seeping into his scent again. It bothers him now, where has he smelled it before?

“Fine. Give me your shirt and turn around,” his voice still higher than normal. Geralt obeys with a deep grunt. He hands Jaskier his shirt before turning around. He doesn’t mind. Jaskier has already seen him less clothed than this. Geralt can hear the rustling of clothes as Jaskier takes his shirt off, careful to not touch the liquid coating it. 

“Shit.” It’s barely audible, but it’s enough for Geralt’s witcher hearing to pick it up. He whips around as that strange sadness intensifies. Geralt takes a moment to take in the sight of the bard.

“Bandages? Are you hurt?” Geralt takes a step closer trying to get a better look. Jaskier shies away from him. His emotions are overpowering all of Geralt’s other senses. All he can smell is fear, shame, and sadness. 

“I’m fine. Just. Turn back around.” Geralt catches sight of the tears forming in Jaskier’s eyes but turns away from him again. 

"Hmmm.." His brows furrow in thought as the sadness intensifies. He snorts softly, he doesn’t like this smell. It reminds him of those that have lost their loved one to a monster. He waits until Jaskier sighs before turning back around. His shirt is way too big for Jaskier, but if Jaskier is happier walking that way he’s fine with it. Jaskier is uncharacteristically quiet during the walk back to the car. Geralt doesn’t mind for once, he’s deep in thought. Where has he smelled this sadness before?They’re in the car when Geralt starts putting it together. The blood when he was ‘sick’, the bandages, the ‘sadness’, the reluctance to be naked in front of anyone. Jaskier must be like the man at the bar many years ago.

\--------------------

People kept calling him a woman, and he bumped into Geralt in his haste to leave. He smelled that same sadness on that man. He glared at the antagonizers, guiding the man to his secluded booth. The man glanced around and saw everyone was avoiding him now. They weren't even looking his way. Geralt could see the panic in the man's eyes when he saw his medallion.

“You… You’re a witcher.” All the man got in reply was one of Geralt’s signature hums. This did little to calm the man “I uh. Thank you. My name is Clive.” 

Geralt finished his drink before responding, “Geralt.”

“What can I give to repay you? I don't have much money.” The man was clearly nervous but did not wish to anger the witcher by implying his service was not worth paying for. The truth is he was curious about this man. He had never smelled that emotion before, and the alcohol was making him impulsive. 

“What was that emotion you felt?”

“Pardon?” Clive’s fear spiked, but it’s too late to back down.

“When they were calling you a woman. What was that emotion? I’ve never smelled it before.”

“Ah.” _Shame._ “I mean. I am a woman, really.” It was that sadness again. 

“No.” A statement of fact.

“I.. I suppose that’s..” he struggled with his words. “I.. I was born a woman... But I’m a man now.” Geralt hummed, waiting for more. “That feeling I guess would be dysphoria. When I’m reminded my body isn’t what I feel it should be it makes me sad.” He felt Clive was speaking about it as if Geralt is a child, incapable of complex emotion. He supposes that it is partially his fault. He never tried to dispel the rumors that witchers are emotionless. It makes it easier sometimes. Pretending nothing is running through his mind except his current hunt. Jaskier had quickly seen through that charade during their first meeting. Ever since then he has begun showing his emotions more, letting Jaskier guide him. He hadn’t expressed emotion since he was a young child before he became a witcher. It was foreign to him. His bard helped him learn to emote again. It made him feel more human. He still hasn’t decided if that is a good thing or not. 

\--------------------

Jaskier is trying to work up the courage to look in the mirror to check his injuries. Geralt isn’t due home from his hunt for a few more hours. He doesn't _like_ being shirtless, but at least his witcher isn’t here to see it. He’s standing in front of the full-length mirror when the bard hears the front door slam shut. He would probably have enough time to hide among the blankets if he didn’t freeze in panic. Ever since that fateful day Geralt always checked on him when he got home. His terror heightens as he hears Geralt open the door. He is standing right in front of the mirror, his back to the door. There's no way Geralt can’t see his chest. Geralt quickly snorts, closing the door. He can hear Jaskier’s heart beating through the door, it’s much too fast for his comfort. The witcher knows he won’t be welcome inside the room though. The strange sadness Geralt now knows as dysphoria is permeating the whole house. He had already known Jaskier was trans, but he wanted Jaskier to feel safe enough to tell him on his own. He sighs, leaving the hall once he hears Jaskier start moving around again, likely rushing to get clothing on. He decides he’ll give his bard some space. He retreats to his study and waits for Jaskier to calm.

\--------------------

Jaskier and Geralt are sitting in their living room. They’ve both had a few beers, making the words flow easier. Geralt picks up on the fact that Jaskier is sitting quietly, unusual. He’s usually quite lively when he’s drunk. Singing about one of his exes or an adventure Geralt went on.

“Hmm. You’re quiet.” Despite always claiming he doesn’t like the bard’s music and is annoyed by his incessant talking Geralt feels lonely without Jaskier’s chatter. 

“Uh... Huh. I uh... Guess I am quiet tonight.” Geralt makes no move to reply. He senses that Jaskier has more to say. Jaskier squirms in his seat, nearly spilling his still full beer bottle. It seems Geralt’s bard is lost for words. That’s a first. 

“Jask. Don’t hurt yourself trying to find words.” The use of the nickname surprises Geralt, he never meant to call him that out loud. It calms the bard though, one word from Geralt and Jaskier is no longer panicking.

“So uh... Earlier.”

“Hm.”

“I uh... I was born a woman.” The fear coming of Jaskier at this point is rubbing Geralt the wrong way. There’s no need to be afraid… He supposes Jaskier wouldn’t know this.

“I know.” Geralt finally speaks after a pause.

"I can.. eh.. you... You know?" _Shock. Fear. Dysphoria._ Geralt stands up humming slightly.

“Another beer?” Both of their beers are still mostly full, but Geralt wants to let Jaskier process his words.

“Haha, uh yeah sure,” Jaskier speaks without really thinking. His brain is going into overdrive. Geralt leaves, into the kitchen. A few moments pass before tears start forming in Jaskier’s eyes. He wills them to stop, he knows his witcher can tell when he’s crying. He covers his face with his hands, confused as to why he’s crying. The witcher comes back in and immediately goes over to his bard. He moves to put a hand on Jaskier’s back but hesitates. He opts to just speak to him softly. Geralt lets him cry. Eventually, Jaskier calms down enough to talk.

“Why? Why are you okay with this?” His voice is strained, he’s afraid of Geralt's answer. 

“Hmmm. You think I haven’t seen someone like you in all my travels?”

"I.." he hadn't thought of that.

"Do you think I, of all people, would judge someone for something they didn't even choose to be?" Jaskier shrugs, shame creeping into the cocktail of emotion coming off him. "Come on, let's finish our beers and go to bed."

\--------------------

They’ve barely been hiking for an hour and Jaskier is already gasping for breath. Geralt pauses, letting Jaskier sit down, and catch his breath. Jaskier notices Geralt has a strange look on his face. He still has trouble expressing emotion, he can’t tell what Geralt is thinking.

Geralt suddenly speaks, “Jask. Are you binding?” He can smell the fear and shame that jolts through the bard. He nods slightly. “With. Bandages..” He speaks slowly and softly this time. He gets even less of a nod at that question. Geralt sits down next to Jaskier before speaking again. “That’s dangerous y’know.” Geralt doesn’t have to scent the air to know Jaskier is confused. “The bandages, songbird. They constrict too much. Could damage your ribs, spine, even your lungs.” Concern flickers across the bards face. He’s afraid Geralt is going to tell him he can’t wear it anymore. “We need to get you a real one.”

“W-What?”

“A real binder. Gotta educate you too so you don’t hurt yourself.”

“I.. Geralt..”

“Hm?”

“Why? Why are you doing thus?”

“What?” It’s Geralt's turn to be confused now.

“You stayed with me. I’m not normal. And now you’re helping me.” Jaskier’s voice shakes as he speaks as if he’s afraid Geralt will finally snap and leave him behind. Geralt hums in consideration before answering.

“Love.” He can almost smell his own fear. Jaskier freezes. There are a few moments of silence before Geralt stands suddenly. “Nevermind. Let’s go home.” 

“Geralt! Wait!” the bard snaps out of his shock. It doesn't matter. 

“C’mon Jaskier.” His actual name. Jaskier wilts. He ruined it. Geralt’s started walking back to the car already. The conversation is over. The witcher won't take kindly to trying to continue.

\--------------------

Geralt puts it off for as long as he can. He doesn’t want to wake Jaskier and risk him freaking out. It’s approaching midnight though, and it’s very cold tonight. He makes his way to the stairs. He sighs before starting to ascend the stairs. He cringes at every creak the boards make. The bard is a light sleeper without Geralt by his side. Despite trying to be silent the door creaks when he opens it. He uses the minimal light from the window to make his way to his side of the bed. He wordlessly grabs his pillow and a blanket when Jaskier groans. He stills, hoping he’s still sleeping.

“Ger’t? Wha? Where're you going?” 

“The couch..” He speaks quietly. His answer alarms the bard, waking him fully.

“What... Why?”

“You don’t want to sleep with me anymore.” It’s not a question. 

“Oh, Geralt. Come here,” Jaskier speaks softly. Geralt doesn’t move but hums in response. “My white wolf. I never want to sleep apart again.”

“Y-You’re not disgusted?” 

“Oh. My dear witcher. Come back to bed.” Geralt detects a tinge of sadness in the air, but no shame. No fear. He hums before he climbs back in. “C'mere.” He slowly crawls over to Jaskier. He doesn’t want to get in his space. Once he’s close enough the bard pulls him closer, hugging the witcher to his chest. Geralt stiffens. They've never been this close. Should they be doing this? Is this okay? Jaskier starts petting his hair. It’s different from the times he’s helped wash it. He melts into the touch, relaxing. “You can touch me too if you’d like. I don’t mind,” Jaskier speaks in a whisper, leaving it open for Geralt to choose what he wants. He hums. Long and deep. It rumbles in his chest and reminds Jaskier of a cat. Geralt hugs himself even closer to the bard and presses his face into his abdomen. He breathes deeply, inhaling Jaskier’s scent. He enjoys the smell. _Safety. Comfort. Warmth._

**_Home._ **

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Hopefully they weren't too out of character.


End file.
